Waltz of the Willows
by Ladybug The Mime
Summary: After a unsettling feeling of loneliness settles over him, Wilson receives and invitation from Willow to see a new contraption she made.


Pressure within the wood caused it to pop and crackle in the small fire Wilson created. The golden glow illuminated his pale face as he tried not to focus on the darkness around him. For a man in his situation, being afraid of the dark was not an option. A chilled autumn breeze blew across him, blowing up into his shirt and vest. Wilson shivered slightly, but held his hand out to the fire to try and regain the fire's comfortable warmth again. Wilson sat in the silence to the trees, looking up to the starry sky above him. There was a haze of smoke from the fire in the air and a thick layer of clouds over the sky. Wilson lowered his head slowly; there was no chance of seeing the stars tonight. Other than the sound of the fire and his own staggered breath, there was no a sound in the forest this evening. Not the sound of a monster, not the sound of a growling, drooling beast, not even the sound of a small, scurrying rat. Even Wilson's own mind seemed to be silence; usually buzzing with thoughts now remained mute and empty. Only one thought crossed his mind as he leaned back on his arms.

"_I am completely alone._"

He did not fancy the idea of being alone. True, something was always lurking out in the darkness, he is never truly alone. No one is ever truly alone. There's probably something lurking behind you right now as you read this right now.

Just kidding.

It has never occurred to Wilson as to how alone he really was. There were always sounds in the forest that could be confused for company, but those seemed to have moved on. Wilson leaned forward off his aching arms and hugged his knees, eye still fixed on the crackling, dancing orange flames. He could very well die in this forest and no one would be the wiser. He could very scream as loud as he wanted and no one would hear him. But that may not be the wisest decision, there could be a monster close by and Wilson would have no idea. Before Wilson's thought could deepen into yet another crisis about how he will probably die alone and no one will know, a shrill cry filled the still night air. Wilson jumped and frantically looked around. His once quiet mind began to flood with question, most of them being "what the Hell was that?!". Another cry erupted through the air and from the sounds of it, it was getting closer. Wilson panicked. He jumped out of his spot on the ground and frantically being searching through his things, looking for a weapon of some sort. The screech got closer and closer as Wilson's heart rate being to increase dramatically. From the dim light from the fire, Wilson saw a large black beast swoop over his camp. An ugly, mangy old crow shriek in the night, as it had done before. Wilson let out a sigh; it was just a crow he was afraid of.

The crow flew back and forth over his camp a few times with something clasped tightly in its boney, decrypted talons. Wilson squinted his eyes to see what it was in the crow was grasping, until the bird release the item into the camp, just over the fire. Wilson reacted quickly and was able to grab whatever it was just before it hit the flame. The crow, obviously done with its mission, shrieked its shrill cry and flew off into the night. Wilson stepped back away from the fire, watching the bird disappear into the distance.

"That was awfully strange…" Wilson muttered. Rather than mull over the mysterious bird, Wilson turned to the item it had left with him. It was a crumpled, old looking envelope, probably written on reused paper. It was light and when Wilson held it up to the light of the fire; he could see the silhouette of a letter within. Good to know that no one was trying to sent him poison in the mail. Wilson went over to his stash of various odds and ends he had collected and pulled out a dulled knife. He cut open the envelope and dropped the letter into his hand. He carefully unfolded it and read the charcoal sketched writing.

_Dear Wilson._

_I do hope this reaches you rather than someone else. I want you to come and visit me. Sort of like a party, if you could call it that! I have something I want to show you and would be so pleased if you could come and see me. I live just north of you. Trust me. You'll know which way my camp is. _

_ Yours,_

_ Willow_

A smile crept across his face when he read the name. Willow. It had been so long since he had seen her.

"But whatever could she mean? "Trust me. You'll know where my cam…" Wilson began to murmured looking around, but stopped in this search. Only several feet in the distance, he could see a raging bonfire. No doubt, Willow's. He took in a deep breath, letting it pass out through his lips. He cautiously took one of the burning logs from his fire, using it as a torched and tossed one of the pails of water he collected earlier onto the remaining fire, extinguishing it. With his torch in hand, Wilson made his way towards the golden glow of Willow's camp.

As Wilson got closer, he could feel the heat from Willow's magnificent fire. It burned at his angular cheeks, but also gave him a comforting warmth within him. Wilson pushed the branches away from the thick forest, revealing Willow's small camp. She was seated by the blazing flames on the edge of the small wall she was building, like she has been waiting for him ever since she sent him this letter. Willow's camp was much more cluttered and disarray than Wilson's, with the things she's been collected piled into disorganized stacks and clumps. The trees in the surrounding area were burnt to a crisp, only leaving spidery black sticks were mighty trees once stood. Wilson carefully stepped into her camp, not taking his eyes of the almost glowing vision of Willow. Willow turned at the sound of the crunching branches and leaves, looking in Wilson's direction with her heavy, dark eyes.

"Wilson!" she exclaimed. She stood up and greeted him warmly, wrapping her arms around his thin waist.

"Willow, I…" he began, a bit taken back by her greeting. He paused for a moment and eventually hugged her back.

"It's good to see you again. But however did you find me?" Wilson asked. Willow stepped back and held her hands behind her back.

"I happened across your camp while I was running from some beasts. I knew it was your camp because of all the started and unfinished projects," Willow said in a cheeky way. Wilson rubbed the nape of his neck, looking down at the ground. That was a nasty habit of his lately.

"I…I see…you said in your letter that you had something to show me?" Wilson inquired, trying to change the subject. Willow nodded and scampered off.

"I thought that you of all people could appreciate the process of making something from nothing." Willow hollered, still invested in her search. She hobbled back over to Wilson with a large contraption in her arms. She carefully place in on the ground, the whole piece standing on twiggy, skinny leg.

"So I thought I should share this with you." Willow finished. She stood next to Wilson and crossed her arms triumphantly. Wilson paused, his pointer finger bent over his lips, staring at the mechanism. There was a long pause between them.

"What is it?" Wilson stated finally.

"It's a gramophone! Can't you see it?!" Willow exclaimed. Wilson looked harder at the machine. It didn't look like a traditional gramophone, but he could see where the record would go and where the needle would hit the record. There was a large horn sticking off from it where the sound would come out. Had he not been told it was a gramophone, Wilson would have had no idea what this was. But to be polite, he nodded enthusiastically.

"Ah yes. Now I see it." He remarked with a smile.

"I collected the parts while I was wandering around…and I may or may not have taken some parts from your camp…" Willow admitted, playing with her long, pale fingers. Wilson's eyes widened and narrowed at her.

"You what?" he fumed. Willow smiled shamefully and raised her eyebrows, as if to give a silent apology. Wilson crossed his arms and sighed deeply.

"I'll let that slide this time…" he teased. Wilson walked closer to the mahcin, getting a better look at the armature job Willow did putting the piece together.

"But…why on earth would you need a gramophone?" Wilson asked.

"I found this." Willow said, holding up an ebony record.

"I thought it was pretty odd to have something like this out in the wilderness…so I thought it was a pretty rare find. I've kept it safe for a while, but I have always wanted to know what it sounded like…" Willow explained in an almost dreamy voice. She paused for a moment, running her fingers over the black, ridged surface.

"Would you like to listen to it with me?" she asked. Wilson's stood up straighter and his face felt hot, not from the still roaring fire. He still managed to smile and nodded once.

"I would be delighted." He stated in a soft gentle voice. Not quiet a whisper, but enough to be heard by Willow and only Willow. Willow placed the record on her makeshift gramophone, cranking the machine to get it going and placed the needle on the record. Static sounds came from the gramophone and Wilson heard Willow gasp, obvious excited her machine worked. They waited for a moment when a small sound of bells began to play. Wilson and Willow sat down on the ground in front of the machine as they listened to the enchanting sound. Violins began to play from the record in a mystical manner and in a very specific waltz beat. Willow began to sway slowly to the sound, enjoying what she was hearing. Wilson looked down for a moment, taking in a deep nervous breath. He stood up slowly and turned to Willow.

"May I?" he inquired, holding out his hand. She paused for a moment, but nodded once and took his hand.

"I would be delighted." Willow smiled. Wilson helped her off the ground and took her waist, while she put her hand on his shoulder. The pair slowly began to waltz around Willow's camp, twirling and stepping to the beat of the elegant and charming music still playing. From how lonely Wilson realized he had felt just a moment ago suddenly didn't matter, all that matter was the moment he was sharing with Willow. All the matter was the smile on her face and the mirrored smile on his, all the matter was listening to her laugh and he spun her around in the air. The two figures, illuminated by the still strong light on the massive fire, no longer felt loneliness or the crushing feeling of seclusion. But if they were going to feel lonely, they might as well be lonely together.

* * *

watch?v=2Ie2vnYbOXo :3


End file.
